Finding My Way
by Maetro
Summary: The BSC are freshmen in high school. A new school, different classes and different interests have altered their frienship but it has not destroyed it. This story is about how they grow and change, together and apart. Ch. 3 03/08/09
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** You guys know the drill, I don't own any of these characters, I'm just having a little fun with them.

**Authors Note: **I grew up reading the BSC books but I hadn't given much though to them in years, until recently I stumbled across my copy of the movie on vhs and I decided to pop it into the vcr for nostalgia's sake. One thing lead to another and now, here I am writing a story about the babysitters I wish I had as a kid.

**Chapter 1**

We were all expecting changes when we started high school. It was pretty much inevitable. Stoneybrook High School is a much bigger school than our middle school was and there would be a lot more students, many of them would be bussed in from the smaller, surrounding towns that didn't have a high school of their own. Along with all of the new faces would also be different classes and activities, which meant different schedules. Unlike at SMS, where at least one of my friends was in any given class, I didn't have a class with any of them my entire first semester. With the exception of Mary Ann and Abby, who had English together, none of us had any classes together. We all knew it was going to be an adjustment, not being at each others sides constantly the way we were in middle school but to be honest, I was looking forward to it. I love my friends. I really do. But I was looking forward to meeting new people and experiencing different things as a freshman in high school.

So I was surprised at how much it stung when our lives began to expand with new classes, new clubs and new people, as we grew into ourselves and away from each other.

Kristy, who had intitially reisisted the changes was now flourishing. She had joined cross country, softball and rowing. And was a star at all three. Not that it was any surprise. She had a ton of new friends, all jocks, and I couldn't turn around in the hallway without hearing about some game or match that she had won. I was proud of her. I'd been a little worried about her all summer. She didn't like things changing and I feared she'd resist all the great things high school had to offer because it was so different from middle school but she seemed to be doing fine.

Mary Ann had really come out of her shell since the fire. She was still kind of quiet and reserved but she didn't come across as meek or timid the way she used to but rather quietly confident. Like, she knew who she was but didn't feel the need to prove it to you. She draws people to her without even trying, she's such a sweetheart. I was proud of her too, she'd come a long way from that mousy girl in middle school who barely looked you in the eye when she spoke.

Claudia had, surprisingly, taken quite well to high school. Or rather, high school had taken quite well to her. Well, part of it had, anyway. After about a week of freshman art class her teacher had been so impressed with her work that he'd had her transferred into senior compositon class and a junior art history class, both of which she was aceing. Her parents had been so thrilled to get that phone call from the school, as opposed to the usual "Claudia isn't doing so well, we need to talk" one's that they'd been getting that they'd really lightened up on her about her grades. I think they're finally starting to realize that while she isn't a genious like Janine is an artistic genious and they've been taking it a lot more seriously.

Abby, not really unexpectedly, approached high school in the same manner she appraoched pretty much everything else, energetically and full of humour. She's already made the varsity soccer team, even though she's only a freshman and has taken up JV lacross and rowing as well. She and Kristy seem to be running in the same circle, which I suppose is expected.

And me, I joined and then quickly quit the math club. It just wasn't as much fun as when I was in SMS. I got tired of having to prove over and over again I wasn't a dumb blond. I also signed up to help design the costumes for the drama clubs end of the year production. I'd opted for drama as my art credit rather than my intro to composition like most of my friends had chosen, (I can barely draw a stick figure) and surprisingly enough found myself enjoying it. I prefer the behind the scenes stuff like costumes and even scenery to the acting though. I've made some new friends, people to hang out and just have a laugh with. We go shopping or to the movies or just hang around (occasionally drinking) in someone's basement.

It's been great, meeting new people and trying new things. Though, I do miss the closeness of my BSC friends. It's not like we don't still talk and hang out. For example Mary Ann and I have some new friends in common, so we eat lunch together sometimes or end up hanging out in the same place. And Claudia and I get together every couple of weeks for coffee or shopping (we've been discussing a trip up to NYC for some new winter fashions) but it's just not the same as it was. We almost never spend time all of us together anymore. We've tried a couple of times, getting everyone together. It worked over Thanksgiving break. We got everyone together for a couple of hours and all went out to dinner. Even Jessi and Mal, who were on break from school too. If only Dawn had been able to fly home, then it would have been perfect. But it would have been too expensive to fly both her and Jeff cross county then and again at Christmas so they'd had to chose which holiday was more important and they'd chosen Christmas. That's just the way life goes, I guess.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a familiar face in the hall.

"Hey, Kristy," I call softly as I pass.

She looks up from her conversation with the small group of people she's talking with. "McGill." She nods at me and I roll my eyes at her new insistance on calling people by their last names. At first I found it annoying. She sounds like a gym teacher when she does it. But now, I actually kind of like it. She's the only one who calls me that and I like the way she says it, with that twitchy little grin of hers as if the two of us are in on some kind of secret.

I match her grin with one of my own as I brush past, bumping her shoulder with my own and putting her off balance. As she catches her balance she mutters something under her breath that doesn't sound very nice and I laugh as I continue past.

Our little interaction reminds me that maybe we don't get a chance to be a big happy group the way we were in middle school but we are still friends and we're finding our way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Belladonna's Oubliette**** : **Can I just say, I love the term vapid skank. I don't think I've ever heard that before. I'm going to try to keep the characters true to the books as I expand on them. I guess I'll see how it turns out. Thank you for your comments. I appreciate them. And I hope that you enjoy the story as it progresses.

**kylie90210** Thanks for you comments. Sorry about the spelling mistakes. It seems no matter how many times I check, I always miss a few. I haven't read much of the Friends Forever part of the series (just the first and the last one) but I'm trying to keep the characters in line with what I remember from the books I have read.

**Fun-1-Shh-Mirani-Peach-Rosirel** Thank you. I've read some of the ones where they're feuding and at each others throats and while they're interesting, I just don't have it in me to write that. Sorry to hear that you don't much like HS. It does suck sometimes.

**Disclaimers: I don't own them. Stoneybrook and the BSC belong to Ann M. Martin, Scholastic and whoever else has rights. **

**Finding My Way**

**Chapter 2**

"Hey, Kristy."

I looked up at the greeting. "McGill," I returned with a smirk and as expected she rolled her eyes as she brushed past me, nearly knocking me off my feet.

"Bitch," I muttered, knowing she would hear me. Her laughter proved that she had.

Shaking my head, I turned back to my friends, who I realized had fallen silent at Stacey's approach and had watched the short exchange with interest.

"What?" I asked, glancing back and forth between my three newest friends. Josh McKillop, Ryder Hearsh and Renee Andrews. Josh and Ryder I'd met through rowing. In addition to rowing for the girls team, I'd also signed on to coxy for the mens teams. Josh and Ryder had been two of the rowers I'd spent the season yelling at.

They were good friends, but pretty different in both looks and personality. Josh was classically handsome, blond haired, blue eyed, tall, broad shouldered and muscled with high cheekbones and really was kind of a pretty boy but he was also friendly and a very talented musician. He played guitar and sang in a garage band.

Ryder was just as tall but lanky. He had long, dark hair, dark eyes and his features were just a little to big for his face but he was really sweet and really funny.

Renee had been an assitant to the coach on my softball team. She was a junior who played for the varsity team and helped out the jv team when she could. She and I had really hit it off and spent a lot of time together, even though the fall training is over.

"Was that...Did _Stacey McGill_ just say hi to you?" Ryder asked, staring at me. The expression on his face was something akin to horror.

"What is up with that?" Renee asked before I could answer. "Girls like that don't talk to girls like us."

I like Renee, I do. She's become a good friend in the few months since school has started but she's a little to caught up in the stereotypes and the cliques. It's all about the jocks and the nerds and the populars. She really doesn't like the populars. Especially not the girls.

Stacey has, not suprisingly, made her way into the popular crowd. Which means that Renee automtically does not like her. I suppose if I didn't know her as well as I did, I might lump her into a category too.

"She's such a bitch."

I frowned, not liking that she'd just insulted one of my friends. Sure, I'd just called her that myself (jokingly) and I'd thought that about her on occasion (not so jokingly) but it was different when I said it. Or thought it. She was one of my best friends. Renee barely knew her.

"Seriously," Josh added. "She's in my history class and just listening to her talk..." he trailed off and shook her head. "She's such a snob."

"She's really not like that. She's..." I trailed off, trying to think of what to say to make them understand

"She's what, really sweet?" Josh scoffed.

She was, actually. Nobody could watch her play big-sister to Charlotte Johansen and say that she wasn't sweet. But, these guys hadn't seen that side of her. They wouldn't understand if I tried to explain it to them.

"Never mind," I said with a shake of my head. "What does it matter?" I felt a little guilty for not defending her more but, it was a lost cause. They weren't going to change my opinion of her on my say so. "Let's just go to lunch."

I shoved the last of my books into my backpack and was straightening up when I was almost knocked off my feet by the weight of someone jumping onto my back.

"Get off me, Stevenson." I didn't have to look over my shoulder to know who it was.

"Hey, Kristy. Can I get a ride home tonight?" Abby asked, wrapping my legs around my waist, so she was settled piggy back style on my back. Damn her and her amazingly strong soccer thighs, I thought as I tried to pry her off and found that I couldn't budge her.

My response was drown out by a flurry of sneezing as Abby jumped off.

"Damn, Kristy. When did you start using perfumed shampoo?"

"Since David Michael knocked my shampoo over in the shower this morning and the only other option was one of Karen's fruity ones."

I'd never understood the need for fruit scented shampoos. Or soaps or body washes. Why would I want to smell like something I ate?

"Hey, get off me." I batted at Josh and Ryder, who had leaned in to smell me. "Quit smelling me." I slapped both of them and stepped away. Turning to face them, I raised my fists as they advanced towards me.

"I wouldn't," Abby said softly.

They both turned to look at her.

"Did you see her brother's black eye?" she asked, then nodded her head toward me.

They took in her expression, which was dead serious. Then over at me. Then back at Abby.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. I had not given Sam his black eye. He had gotten it last night, wrestling with Andrew and David Michael.

"So, Kristy, ride?" Abby asked, before either of them could ask me for details.

"Sorry. Can't. I'm going over to Mary Ann's. You want to come?"

She shook her head. " Can't. Anna's got a concert tonight and since Mom's stuck in the city I gotta show some sister solidarity."

"I'm sure if you ask nice, Sam will still give you a lift."

"Sweet. Where's he right now?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It's not like I've memorized his schedule."

"Some help you are," Abby called over her shoulder as she turned and strode away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimers: ** They're not mine and I'm not getting any money or anything out of this. I'm just having a little fun playing with the characters.

Special Agent Stace : Grammar has always been an issue of mine. Especially when writing in first person. I'm not quite sure why that is. So I'm glad to see that it's getting better.

Don't worry, the drama will be coming soon. I just wanted to establish each character first. Thanks for your comments.

L0L0L : My bad. I thought you meant you were still in HS. It's been a few years since I've been in high school too. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story.

missypaige06 : Hey, I know you from one of my others stories. Nice to *see* you again. I hadn't read these stories in years either. Though I did go back and read a couple when I decided to write a fiction story. They brought back some nostalgia. It was nice. Thanks for reading. And commenting. I appreciate it.

And now, on with the story.

**Claudia**

For the first time in my life I sat staring at an empty canvas, paint brush in hand, and I didn't know what to paint. There were no images in my head that I wanted to capture. No emotion inside me that I wanted to portray. I felt as blank inside as the surface in front of me.

Class was half over. All around me, my classmates were busy working on their art show projects. I should be doing that as well. Even though I was only a freshman my art teacher, Mrs. Rathbone had decided that I could take part in the senior art show that the art gallery was holding. It was a Stoneybrook tradition. Every year the senior art students from SHS and SDS submitted pieces to the art gallery that were combined into an exhibit, just like the ones held at the major galleries in New York. They even threw a big event for it and everything Parents and friends as well as the rest of the community was invited to come and see the artwork on display. A lot of the pieces even sold. The money raised was donated to local artistic causes like painting classes at the community center. Or art supplies for the day camps that ran each summer.

I'd been excited about the show since I learned that I would be part of it way back at the end of September. But now that it was time to prepare for it, I just couldn't. I wondered if this was what Mallory meant when she talke about writers block. I had artist block.

And, I blamed it on my parents. Leave it to them to take the one that I not only enjoyed but was actually good at, and ruin it. Ever since getting that phone call from Mr Grant, about switching me to this senior art class they'd been taking a real interest in my art.

Good, right?

No.

They's spent the last couple months talking about the practical applications of my art and the schools that I should attend to help me further my career. Where at one time my art was a distraction from my schoolwork it had suddenly become the focus of my life. Suddenly, they weren't as concerned about my math grade but they were handing me brochures to places like the Rhode Island School of Design or the Art Institute or a dozen other schools scattered across the country.

At first it had been nice, having them take me seriously for the first time. And it had been reassuring to see that there were a lot of fields out there where I could actually make money doing something that I loved. But after a couple weeks, the novelty had worn off and I realized that, as always, they weren't really seeing me. They were just trying to validate me.

They didn't care that art was my passion. That it came from somewhere deep inside me and I couldn't control it or contain it. ( Nor could I call it forth, when it didn't want to come, apparently) They didn't care about any of that. They were just trying to find a way to take my talents and make them comparable to Janine's. It didn't matter that I loved it. Or that I was good. All they cared about was being able to put me in a school equal to Janine's Ivy League education so they could be proud of the success of both their daughters.

With a sigh, I put my brush down. A moment later, Mrs Rathbone was at my side, concern in her eyes as she peered first at me and then my empty canvas.

"Is everything all right, Claudia?" she asked softly.

No. Everything was not alright. But, how did I tell her that? She had just as many high hopes for me as my parents did. I'd seen it in her eyes when I'd shown her my work for the first time. She'd praised my work. Told me that a talent like mine came once in a generation. And I'd known then that she wanted me in her class because it would make her look good to say that she had taught me.

It hadn't bothered me then. I had been pleased to have someone other than my friends recognize my effort and my art. Lately though, it had been grating at.

"I'm not feeling so well," I said in response. And it wasn't a lie. Not really. I wasn't sick, exaclty, but I didn't feel good.

"Maybe you should go visit the nurse?" she suggested. I didn't really want to but I couldn't sit in this class and stare at that canvas any longer.

I nodded. "Maybe that's a good idea."

While the rest of the class worked away at their projects I gathered my things and slowly slipped from the class. I caught a couple of curious glances and ignored all but a few. Most of the people in the class paid no attention to me. They were seniors, I was a freshman and therefore fell beneath their notice. A couple of them had been pretty nasty to me. Probably jealous of of how Mrs. Rathbone had been paying special attention to me. I had made a few friends, mainly Quinton Zales and Brynn Lowell. When they caught my eye I offered a smile of reassurance and a wave. Brynn mouthed, locker as I passed and I nodded. I'd meet her at her locker at the beginning of next period, lunch.

I had about 40 minutes until then and no intention of going to the nurses office. My other friends, my BSC friends (funny how I still thought of them as that, even now that the club was broken up) were on lunch right now. I could go hang out with them. I made it halfway to the cafeteria before I realized that I really wasn't in the mood to be around other people right now. Not even them. Not even Stacey. I just needed to be by myself for awhile.


End file.
